


In The Night's Silence

by hangon_itgetsbetter



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Budapest, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Sad Ending, Sad love, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:59:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3961897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangon_itgetsbetter/pseuds/hangon_itgetsbetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I miss Budapest.” </p><p>“I do too." </p><p>There are regrets that are dwelled upon at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Night's Silence

It was too heavy. The weight of it. It was too great. The single moment that was taken away. For all that it was for, a life like that should not have been. Those final words that just seemed to float in the unsettled air just before he fell, it was a last punch, a final blow.

He lay awake. Eyes strained and bloodshot, maybe from tears, maybe from lack of sleep, or maybe both. He was a mess, an absolute mess. So, there he stayed, in a loud empty room. The room was quiet, his mind was not.

Firing guns, rapid movements, the final curtain call.

He snapped his attention towards the door, he heard a faint knock or maybe the footsteps that halted by his door. A soft whisper and then it opened. “Clint?”

Slowly, he sat up, he squinted. He had to adjust to the light leaking through the hallway. His eyes were staring hard at her figure while she wore her usual battle attire. He figured as much, she tended to have late night training sessions more than often. He breathed in, his wrist flicked for her to enter, “Yes, Tasha?”

As she entered, the door shut and she sat upon his bed. His mouth grew dry, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Her eyes were scanning around, frantic even. “No, couldn’t, how ‘bout you?” He waited, knowing she wasn’t finished. “Because you seemed awake already and for a while.”

“Nat,” he stated, he reached his arm over to turn the lights on. “I was just thinking about things, sorting through stuff in my head.”

“That is a week process,” she remarked with a smirk. A light hit to her arm was well deserved, but it didn’t stop her short laugh.

Clint soon noticed her body tense and her eyes dim. “You’re worried about Banner.” A statement of fact, not a question of inquire. Her breathing shook, head balanced to a soft nod.

“I’m sorry, I am being so-”

His hand soon petted her hair, “Nah, you are being human, Nat.”

“You are too,” she looked at him with a look of compassion. “With Pietro.” The way his head fell made her hand catch it. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” his faded bluish green eyes flickered, undoubtedly with pain, and frustration.

“This, blaming yourself, don’t do that to yourself,” she whispered. He saw her look and he felt a sense of dejavu. He remembered when Loki had used him and he asked how many agents he ended up killing and she had told him not to even go there, spare himself that feeling of guilt, of pain. He knew why she was always concerned.

“I could have done something,” was his only response.

Her look became stern, “And what would that have been?”

A lift of his arms, her hand left his face, “Something…” _at least…_ He felt like maybe there was something that could have changed, could have been different. He had gained a connection with the twins, he truly did. It was like he and Steve somehow gained a connection and when Pietro fell, something broke in them both.

Her hands found his face, the soft caresses spoke for her along with her look. His anger with himself was slowly dissipating. He closed his eyes to compose himself more so, allowing her to feel his vulnerability. They both knew the other’s defenseless side.

Within a few mere moments, they were tangled in a warm embrace. Her head lay on his chest, hands under his back, one of his were in her red locks, and his other arm tightly around her lower back. They lay in a comfortable silence, just the drinking in the quiet and the understanding between themselves. The way their bodies felt, like pieces of a puzzle, fitting every crevice and fissure which was equivalent to their bodies’ shape. His beating heart and the rhythm of his chest rising and failing was like a lullaby to her. Her soft locks and hot breath soothed his chaotic mind.

“Do you miss this?”

Taken back by the question, it was both soft and coarse when it left her throat, he simply glanced down to her. He expected her messy red waves, but met with her light greenish eyes. “Do you?” she mumbled, lowly this time, not so boldly.

“Miss what?” he asked, almost afraid to hear her say it.

She gave _the_ look. He knew already what she was implying. So, she angled her head back down and stared off at the wall. His eyes were still very fixated on her hair. A sigh fled his mouth as he looked at the ceiling, “More than not.”

There the silence was again.

She hummed then to acknowledge his words.

“I miss Budapest.”

“I do too, Nat.”

She looked up at him and gave a sad look, “If things went differently, we…”

“Yeah,” he finished, “But they didn’t we both did what we did and now we have moved past it….” _I mean, we have, no?_

There was a long silence again, she simply let a groan out. “I’m sorry that ‘us’ did not last.”

“Nat,” he started, soon looking down at her, “You have gotten over me, don’t be sorry for that.”

The look she gave made his chest ache and twist. “A part of me has…” He felt his throat grow dry again, fearful of what would come next. “A part of me will always love you.” Like the earth shook and trembled beneath him because he knew his feelings and hoped that she was finally finished with everything. With them, but both of them knew that what they had, it was still there.

Their eyes were locked, she knew already what he was saying without his words been said. This bond was unbreakable. Chained down by emotions and torn away by regulations, but still everlasting. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, sweetly, simply, it was chaste, but definitely not platonic.

They had their regrets that would dwell with they for as long as they will know.

In hours Clint would return to his family. Two loving children, his wife and other child on the way. The woman he **married** and he loved. But the woman in his arms was the one who he had fallen madly in love with… and that would forever linger.

In hours Natasha would go back to being the spy she was. Far from him and search for Bruce because that is **where** her heart belonged. But the man she clung to for dear life was the one who would always remain and be constant in her life.

Their eyes were still locked.

**_I want to go back to us._ **

_I do too, Nat. I do too._

**Author's Note:**

> I shall be honest. I loved and hated this movie a great deal. I can honestly say that I did not see the whole Bruce and Natasha thing coming, nor Clint's family. Clintasha is seriously the most canon ship ever. Dude, the way he reacted when she wasn't there on the ship, when they lost her, like dude, Marvel don't do that. Anywho, I meant for this to be just Clint reflecting on Pietro's passing... but eh... 
> 
> Ships happen.


End file.
